Musings, missives and other miscellany of a big city lawyer turned respectable author

A smattering of whimpers rose to a wind-like howl around me. Louder. Louder. I struggled again to free my hands, if only to cover my ears. Every shriek pierced deeper as the volume inflicted daggers of pain until suddenly, and for a few blissful seconds, I heard nothing at all.

In the calm that followed, I felt truly alone, perhaps more than ever before. Still, I had no interest in tempting fate by being the first to break the silence. I bit my lip and stuttered long breaths to mirror this new level of quiet, but the deck was stacked against me from the start.

Without a sound, something circled, more inquisitive than malicious. Its provocation tickled like bursts of air, testing every point for intimate weakness with conscious awareness of its advantage. Something, or the vestige of someone, did not play fair. It had no need for breath and could move without a rustle, unburdened by the telltale drag of matter. And yet it prodded my senses in search of the slightest audible sign of humanity, as if such a standoff could possibly last.

I didn’t need eyes to see its head cocked aside in quizzical interest, kissing the pulse of my neck and studying the symmetry of each heaving breast. Even in death, it seems the fascination remains. But I wouldn’t break, not yet. I let it play across my skin, ignoring the urge to move which so often accompanies the realization that one cannot. Methodic in its mischief, it traveled down both sides to the taper of my hips—seeking my sound, like my scent, on the air. Waiting…

Before I could call it back, a sigh escaped my lips and echoed beyond my reach. The dinner bell. In vicious unison, every nail dug deep and every fang nipped at my flesh. My body trapped in one prolonged vibration, I felt my assailant release its smoky plume, flooding my lungs before vanishing from the vise of my lips.

“Oh my God, yes!”

Finally, in the haze of an ethereal afterglow, Luc landed the mercy blow. His tongue penetrated my weakened defenses to take his first unchallenged taste of my excitement. The table electrified beneath me as he teased and flicked between my thighs. Softly, cruelly, he licked with masterful control to the edge of a rising bank. But this dam couldn’t hold forever.

“Please?” I whimpered.

Before my plea could fade, the room spun upside down and his delicate feasting turned frenzied, sending me into electrified convulsions as he hit his mark with expert pressure, releasing rolling waves of pleasure I could neither control nor stop. My body ran wild without regard to my wishes, clawing at the restraints and whipping side to side like a woman possessed—a fitting comparison in the moment. I thrashed and trembled against his touch but every token resistance only heightened the intensity further. Writhing in the dark, this new sensation consumed me, raining chaos and renouncement until his tongue drained me of every last orgasmic impulse.

As soon as I penetrated the sweltering heat between her lips, I sprung to life across her tongue, engorging with the very blood that fled my extremities until her mouth strained to contain me. First, my eyes rolled back in sheer bliss at the all-consuming warmth, and then at the skill with which she applied it. With each stifled moan that vibrated through her throat and into my flesh, she not only enhanced her raw sexual value but left me increasingly curious about the kind of bad decisions that lead a woman like this here, of all places.

Pulled free from a descending haze of my own, I looked down to marvel at her enthusiasm, only to find those eyes still locked on mine. Damn, the girl learned quickly. Flashing a glint of bravado that endeared her all the more, she pulled me briefly from her pursed lips and asked again, just as earlier in the day, “You like, yes?”

As if empowered by my approval, she immediately doubled her efforts, tightening her grip and flicking her tongue in playfully erratic lashes. With the slightest shift, she adjusted her angle and drove down with even greater force, burying my entire length and swallowing deeply to engage muscles that sent me reeling.

Only once I opened my eyes again did I notice the burning attention cast down from our host and his illustrious, voyeuristic gathering—a handful of whom wore outfits virtually identical to those ladies on the floor. It seemed that even a few fellow guests had opted to stay behind and ogle, having long since cast their own conquests aside.

While it has never been my style to put on a public exhibition, it’s not like I could drag her to a more secluded location. As much as I cringed at the barbaric notion, she was not mine to take. I had to respect the reality that, in such a strictly supervised environment, she was borrowed property to be enjoyed at the watchful discretion of the master.

With the reasoning centers of my brain already thoroughly frozen and my inhibition drunken at best, our audience could have ordered pizza and called over friends for all I cared. I had a hotter, tighter, and infinitely more gripping engagement ready to drop in my lap.

“Get off that cold floor,” I urged, coaxing myself free of her insatiable grip and ordering her upright—vulnerable, exposed, and simpering at my whim. “Turn around.” Of all the commands so far laid down, I found it fascinating that only this one prompted a distinct moment of hesitation.

“Yes, sir.” She spoke to the ground as she turned away, tightening every muscle as if preparing for an unseen but inevitable assault.
Leaning forward, I rested one outstretched hand over the small of her back. Feeling the raised lash marks for the first time only triggered further anger toward any beast that would so irreparably desecrate such a treasure. My other hand dug firmly into her hip as I pushed forward, forcing her over at the waist and then lifting the tattered dress to expose her entirely.

With her legs spread slightly, she struggled to maintain balance against the pressure of my palm, sparking the more wicked recesses of my imagination even as I battled to differentiate myself from the men behind those marks. Try as I might, I simply couldn’t help myself. Did that make me a monster as well?

With every step I took, her thighs parted instinctively wider, until my feet stood frozen at the walkway’s edge. Perhaps sensing the trepidation, and most likely feeding off it, she urged me inside the sphere of light with a flirtatious curl of her finger. Her other hand dangled a pair of strappy shoes between her legs, hiding my prize until I finally caved and took it by force.
“How badly do you want me?” She teased without mercy, looking up with innocent eyes as I stood directly above her. I’m sure she planned to nurture the game for at least a while longer, but I was too far gone. Lost in the unapologetic lunacy of our surroundings, I slapped her wandering hand from the bulge in my jeans and pinned her wrist hard against the cold marble overhead.
Emboldened by the one gasp, I treated myself to another as I ripped the shoes from her grasp and pulled her second wrist up to meet the first.
Offering a token struggle against my power play, she writhed and thrashed, working herself into an incoherent frenzy before whispering the words, “My purse.”
I reached for her small bag and emptied its contents across the stonework, immediately catching sight of a short length of rope. This dirty girl came prepared. And I was all too happy to oblige.
“Don’t move,” I ordered as I retrieved the rope and wrapped it around the obelisk, fastening her hands in a rough knot. With her upper body secured, I stood no chance. I simply couldn’t help myself. I gripped her dress at both shoulders and ripped the fabric down her body, sinking my teeth into each exposed nipple. Her nails clawed helplessly at the stone above, which only encouraged me to dig deeper until she unleashed her first primal scream of the night.
Perhaps a bit premature in my victory, I stepped back to allow my prey a single, unhindered breath. As her lungs filled with a second, however, I tugged her lower half to the second stone landing, shaking loose the oxygen on impact and placing her arched body entirely at my whim. At that point, I couldn’t have cared less who might stumble across us. In this one impossible moment, I had her right where she wanted me. And I would take my fill.
Dropping to my knees on the wet grass before her, I flashed a mischievous smile of my own and spread her legs wider. She writhed violently as my tongue hit the warm flesh of her inner thigh, growing more feral as I traced a lazy trail to within breathing distance of her dripping heat.Oh good, so I’m not the only one suffering.
All the same, I had no intention of making it that easy. Oh sure, I teased with the promise of a finishing strike, blowing gently across the dampness to ensure her absolute attention. But as I pulled my lips away and rested my tongue just inside her other knee, I could feel those thoughts of revenge toward another melting away, rolling down her skin in tangible droplets of need. Indeed, the more ruthlessly I tormented her sensations, the more I became the one deserving of punishment.
As I traced my way back up her thigh, I paused just short of my target to playfully inquire, “And how badly do you want me?”
She stopped her moaning just long enough to stare me down with a growl that I placed somewhere between sensual and animal. This time, I took the hint, burying my face between her legs once more, exploring every delicate fold until that growl grew into a scream more primal and orgasmic than anything I’ve heard since.

There are markers along the road to any great destination, reminders in retrospect of the distance one has traveled and of those who have helped along the way. For me, today ranks high on that list, in part because I get to share it with all of you.

Today, I get to unveil another facet of a project so long in the making that I’d begun to doubt it would ever happen at all.

Today, I finally get to make a proper introduction.

At long last, meet the face that launched a thousand sins, and the start of a new novel series. Staying faithful to the story within, I needed a cover that leaps across genre lines and blurs the boundaries between worlds—one that whispers of mystery while screaming passionate intrigue. I hope I’ve accomplished some of that here.

For now, let’s call her ‘V’—an allusion some readers will instantly recognize. I’d love nothing more than to tell you her story, and how it came to drive my own, but that’s going to have to wait…at least a few days longer. In the meantime, feel free to get acquainted. And be sure to pre-order your copy of Malediction between now and March 20th for a special discounted price.

While I’ve teased and taunted, you’ve waited patiently, and now the day is here. Today, I finally get to share a big announcement with you all, one that’s been killing me to hold inside.

In many ways, today marks the start of a new journey while building on the foundation we’ve laid. Time and again, I’ve shown you the “how” through the tales and vignettes I’ve collected. Now it’s time I tell you the “why”.

With the release of my first Crimson Confessions, I started down a road that has delivered me to each and every one of you. It’s brought me new friends, and maybe a few enemies, but more than that it’s opened my eyes to the incredible power of the written word in bonding people across their differences. But then, that’s always been my hope, my catalyzing ambition. On the bridge between these divides, we often find our strongest commonalities—the undeniable truths which make us one and the same, in spite of our tendencies to forget.

Now we reach the next step together, with the unveiling of a new phase that blurs lines and crosses boundaries in ways few others have. Today is about much more for me than the introduction of a new novel. It’s about inviting you deeper into a world of my own reluctant creation, to walk among the shadows from which Confessions take rise and glean firsthand the reason behind their existence.

Jessica Ames, Morgan Parker, Christine Bexley… Each carried secrets like weights around their necks until absolved by the cleansing power of revelation. But have you ever wondered what connects them all, beyond the ultimate submission to temptation? The answer to that stands right before you, and has from the very beginning. I do.

Now I bring you a new class of sinners, their transgressions darker and more wanton than those who came before. But even their disclosures pale to the worst of them all. See, my motivation for liberating these strangers of their chains was never about nobility or goodwill. I chase absolution as well, albeit for an affliction more damning than the rest.

Only one can grant me peace and the second chance I seek. Some day, I must believe, she will. Until then, I carry on as if she won’t. Welcome to my self-imposed curse. Welcome to my blessed damnation. Welcome…to my Malediction.

Happy Wednesday to all my friends and lascivious Lexxicons. I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything writerly in nature and I apologize profusely. Who knew being an author would require so much juggling?

Fortunately, I woke this morning to a review of Order of the Orchidarion so thoughtful, intensive and genuine that it left me no choice but to get off my lazy backside and share it with everyone. The fact that it comes from an admired colleague and truly talented author makes it the sort of treat that helps fan the flames and fuels a tireless quest to improve. For that, I sincerely thank Ms. L.T. Kelly. See what she has to say below: